Salt Wine
by Lady Angel
Summary: Slash alert. Read the headers for warnings. Ares, God of War, teaches Luke a few things about darkness. READ THE WARNINGS! I cannot say it enough.


Title: Salt wine  
  
Author: Angel  
  
E-mail: valarltd@hotmail.com  
  
URL: http://www.geocities.com/lady_aethelynde  
  
Rating: PG-13 for homoerotic implications  
  
Summary: Ares teaches Luke a few things about darkness  
  
Type: Crossover, vignette, PoV. Think of this as a monologue.  
  
Archive: Sure. Just tell me where.  
  
Disclaimer: Whatcha gonna do when Rob Tapert & Sam Raimi's  
war god decides he wants to play in George Lucas' universe?  
  
Acknowledgements: Mikal the Ram for the first lines of "Loki's Song"  
  
Warnings: Slash, bloodplay, mindfucks, implied incest (all canonical Greek mythology).  
But, nothing graphic.  
  
Feedback: I crave it. It's my favorite high.  
  
***  
Salt Wine  
2001 Angelia Sparrow  
***  
  
  
You can't move. Oh, but being a god has its perks. Now, let  
me see you. Very nice. Too many clothes, though. I like  
the black, but it's in the way. Much better.  
  
I do have such a weakness for blonds. Dear 'Dite, my ditzy  
sister. Her son, that annoying twit with the arrows. My   
pesky half-brother's little mortal hunter. But you, oh you're  
perfect.  
  
You're mine. I could feel you clear across the galaxy. I   
can feel your anger, your lust for power. It sits right...   
here. Your chest is so warm, but you're breathing too hard.   
Calm, my little warrior. Some things don't change, no matter  
where I go. I'm not sure where I am. It looks a little   
like Egypt. I went there with Caeser, you know. But the   
stars are all wrong. I can see so much more than this sandy  
place in your mind. In one of those places, the people will   
build me a temple and I will be worshipped again. Good enough   
for now.  
  
And who is this dark warrior who strides through your nightmares,  
causing you loss and grief? Father? Really? Now he could be   
interesting. Obviously one of mine, even in this place where  
my name is unknown. Even here, I am followed, if not known; here  
where you fight with swords of light instead of steel. Oh,  
you're sweet, my boy.  
  
Shhh, I haven't hurt you badly, just a scratch on your cheek.   
See? Here, I'm cleaning it up. Your blood is sweet,   
mortal, like you. You are mine. Born to war.  
  
"I was born in battle's fire  
And laid beside my mother's corpse."  
  
That's you, my sweet one. You were. You can't remember,  
but I can see it all in those cloudy infant chambers of your  
mind. Easy, boy. That's just my tongue again. I could hold  
you here forever, tasting your salt-sweat, drinking it like the  
best wine.  
  
A tear? Ah, bitter frustration and anger, so tasty. It must  
gall you to be held so: wrapped in my arms, which your mortal  
strength cannot hope to move.  
  
Ahhh. Now that's interesting, Who is your hot-tempered,   
fast-shooting friend? Oho, more than just a friend. He's the  
one you're building the lightsword to save, is he?  
  
Yes, you'll go, and you'll butcher the crime-lord and his   
hangers-on. You'll stride to where he hangs, all stony  
and cold, and make the magics that will release him.  
He'll tumble into your arms, and when he comes to, he'll  
kiss you ever so gratefully.  
  
Then, the two of you will go and kill your father, and  
his king. And you'll rule the stars with him at your side,  
won't you? Or will it be at your feet? And you have the   
nerve to say you're not mine, Skywalker?  
  
Oh yes, I know your name. Very apt. You walk through  
the sky in your ships that travel in air instead of water  
and you'll stride across the stars, making them your own.  
Where I come from, flight is for the gods.  
  
So your green-eyed/grey-eyed love hasn't taken you yet?  
What a sin. Or perhaps not. A blond virgin sacrifice to  
the war-god. Mmmmmm.  
  
You're all right. I didn't break the skin that time. I just  
broke it here, though. Your blood is the exact color of Spartan   
wine, and far more satisfying. Oh, that's right, you've never  
heard of Sparta.  
  
You'd be very popular there, Luke, the warrior-mystic. Luke.  
A good Greek name. Do you know it means "light?" My brother  
drove the chariot of the sun across the sky each day. Are  
you his? I don't care if you are. I've bested him before.  
  
Light has nothing on my darkness. Can you see me, my sweet?  
Right there, in that pretty bronze mirror I just conjured.  
Don't we look nice together? All light and dark, smooth and  
rough. Such a contrast. Yet, you're mine because light is   
nothing without dark for contrast.  
  
Hold still, I'm going to kiss you. Then again, you  
don't really have a choice do you? Those lips of yours.  
So soft. Oh, your friend has done this, has he? An ice  
cave...and how you warmed it up saying farewell. Oh, lucky   
man. Lucky, lucky man.  
  
You're waking up now, my sweet boy. Remember me.  
Men die, cattle die, worlds die, even the gods die.  
But as long as you remember, I live.  
  
And as long as I live, I will return to you.  
A last kiss. Finish your sword. Remember.  
  
  
*end*  
  
  



End file.
